


State Of My Head

by XoXLexLoveXoX



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Family, M/M, Not technically cheating, People are sad, Possible Wincestiel, Sastiel - Freeform, but guild of cheating, possible smutty ending because I'm trash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 03:33:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8385577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XoXLexLoveXoX/pseuds/XoXLexLoveXoX
Summary: Sam Winchester never perceived himself as a troubled child. He remembers when things hadn't been so confusing and terrifying. When he didn't question his morals. He just hopes that this little crush that has developed for his brother's boyfriend doesn't drive him mad.





	1. Oh, My Eyes Are Seein' Red

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, @fallenangels4rightiousmen on Tumblr.
> 
> This was something I've had lying around in my notes for a while. I got the idea/started writing it right after Shinedown's newest album, Threat to Survival was released. This fic was bread from their new song with the same title 'State Of My Head'.
> 
> Drop a comment down below and thanks for reading.

Sam Winchester never perceived himself as a troubled child. He was a smart boy, not ranking top of his class, but pretty close. His parents were't exactly happily married but they didn't fight all the time, they made it work for them and their kids. He didn't consider himself popular but his small Laurence town school was pretty well open and friendly. Most people got along with everyone unless it was a specific grudge, no cliches really forming. His hero, his big brother Dean, was always there to look out for him and have his back. So, in retrospect, Sam shouldn't have ever had to question the sanity of his head. 

He remembers when things hadn't been so confusing and terrifying. When he didn't question his morals.

He remembers his family sitting around the table for dinner and eating happily. While nothing really changed for the Winchesters, his own perception of their life and himself had suddenly become a mess of self loathing and jealousy. As he laid awake in bed at the age of 17, long, dangly limbs spread out to cover the span, Sam could trace the birth of his demons back to one event. Which, in all honesty, shouldn't appear all that bad considering some people's lives are a barrage of bleeding messes that melt together to create an undefinable tragedy.

But not for Sam. No, he could follow the single line that would flip his brain upside down for the rest of his life. 

It had all started at the age of 15, when he had seen something that he wasn't meant to.

His older brother had just officially announced to the family that he was questioning his own sexuality. He hadn't labeled it at the time but 2 years later Dean would claim that he was pansexual, and leave it at that. This had been brought up, when Dean, fresh out of high school, had confided in them that he was seeing someone. That someone happened to be his best friend Castiel Shurley, the boy who had moved in across the street 5 years previously and was one year ahead of Dean in high school. Dean claimed that he had never been attracted to another boy before but by the time he graduated, he could only ever see himself being with Cas. It had been a shock on the family but no one had blamed nor hated either of them for it. Their mother had been ecstatic, practically cheering that she wouldn't have to worry about Dean knocking some poor girl up before he was ready to be a father. Their father had been shell-shocked most of the night, but the next day he had had a private heart-to-heart with his oldest son that seemed lengthy and deep. Dean would later recap for Sam that their father hadn't seen this coming but was just happy that Dean had the courage to follow his heart, even if it meant potentially facing his family. Dean had also made a disgusted face as he glossed over the details of a rather awkward safe-sex talk that they had had.

Sam hadn't really understood Dean's paranoia at the time. He didn't know what the problem with being homosexual was (even if Dean still swears that he is not). Hell, they had neighbors who lived two doors down that were homosexual, and them and their parents had been friends for years. But, Dean had seemed scared and awkward for the first few weeks after he had made the announcements. Now-a-days, Sam had a full grasp on what that meant, which honestly didn't really mean anything. Dean and Cas had been in love, they still are in love, the pair were currently looking for an apartment to rent closer to Cas' college. But at the time Sam didn't understand why Dean had been so afraid to proclaim the things that he wanted. But, now he did. Because now, Sam was conflicted and needing and desperately yearning to do the same. But it wasn't that simple, not as simple as it had been for his brother.

Sam stiffly pulled his boxers back up, throwing the dirty tissue he had used to clean himself up with into the waste basket by his desk. He flopped back down on his bed, covering his eyes with his forearm in an attempt to block out the light filtering in through the curtains of his window. 

He felt like he always felt after these incidents. Filthy, disgusted with himself, and lonely. It was in these moments that he hated what he had become, what this one event had reduced him to. Sure, it was easier now that Dean was out of the house but it didn't make it any better.

And, like always, he let his brain recount the moment everything had changed for him.

It had been a quiet Saturday night, the house silent other than the sound of his clock ticking on the wall. Dean had gone out with Cas, their relationship having already stretched into 4 months. They had told their parents that they were going to the local 24 hour diner for a "date night" but Dean had let slip to him that they were actually going to a party across town.

It was 1:30 in the morning and a 15 year old Sam decided to sneak into his brothers room to sneak a peak at his good skin mags. Dean always kept them in a storage container crammed under his bed beneath some old winter sweaters. Sam had just pulled the first one out, sitting on the edge of his brothers bed as he flipped through the pages of scandalously dressed women. He was reading an article on one model's kinky experience at a night club when he heard the thud from the front room that could possibly have been the front door. He froze in fear at the sudden sound, listening for any sign of life. When he heard the jingling of keys and the scuffle of feet he let the panic take a hold of him. Shit, Dean must be home.

He threw the magazine back into the container and hastily shoved it back under the bed. He hit the lights and as the sound grew nearer on the other side of the door, Sam scuffled in the middle of the room in dread. If Dean found him in here, he was dead.

The sound was so close, there was no way it wasn't Dean, and he had about 2 seconds before that door flew open and all hell broke loose. His brother was approaching the only exit, so in his panicked mind, the closet had seemed like the only reasonable place to hide. He shut the closet door just as the bedroom door was opened and he watched through the slants in the closet cover as dark figures swayed in.

Alright, he could do this. At least he could see through enough to not be noticed and if he stayed quiet, he could just wait for Dean to pass out and sneak back to his room.

He was taken aback however, when he realized that Dean was not alone. And his brother wasn't being as subtle as he thought he was, either. He listened as he heard Dean drunkenly stumble into the room accidentally slamming the door behind him. He chuckled goofily as he shushed the door, his hands trailing over what could have only been Castiel. Cas clutched at him for stability, laughing at his boyfriend and mumbling something that Sam couldn't make out. It must have been funny though because Dean let out a barking laugh, which Cas tried to stifle with a hand over his mouth. He could barely make out the silhouette of the two figures as his eyes adjusted to the darkness but he was certain that he saw his brother pull Cas' hand from his mouth before forcing their lips together.

Sam scrunched his face as he listened to the sound of rustling cloths, laughing, and wet lips slickly working together. He glanced through the slants again to see Dean stumbling backward towards the bed, pulling Cas with him. As they drew nearer, Sam could barely make out their mumbled conversation between open mouthed kisses as they both shucked their shoes off. 

"-shit, no, but don't worry babe." Sam could distinguish as Dean 

"Your dad would kill me."

"He'll never know you were here. Everyone's asleep. And fuck, you look hot."

Dean got stuck in the sleeve of his shirt as he pulled it off, giggling to himself as Cas noisily undid his buckle.

Holy shit, he did not want to see this. The panic in Sam's brain had not calmed down and he buried his face in his hands as the sound continued. He could hear the rustling of cloths, the heated breaths of both his brother and his boyfriend now growing frantic. There was a loud creak of what Sam could only guess was the sound of weight being put onto the bed.

He heard a hiss come from Cas as he harshly whispered, "Ow, shit Dean, be careful."

"Sorry, I just can't help myself."

Dean chuckled deeply, "Well don't take it out on my shoulders."

"Aaaaw, I'm sorry, baby. You don't like my love nips?"

"That was a bite, what are you a vampire?"

Dean hummed sexually, a tone that Sam wished he could bleach from his brain forever, "No, but I'd sure like to suck something out of you right now."

Cas chuckled again, letting out a breathy gasp at something that Sam couldn't see. He bit his lip as he listened to the sound of slick moisture working between skin, a noise that he had never heard before.

Sam bounced his leg in anxiety, trying to think of anything other than what was happening just 3 feet from him. It was a few minutes of painful wet sounds for Sam before something forced him to peak between his fingers in what he could only pinpoint as curiosity.

Castiel had let out a pit retching moan and the sight that greeted him when he glanced through the slates sent a bolt of lightning down his spine that ended up some place that it didn't belong.

The room was illuminated by the reys of the moon light, giving Sam enough visibility to see the pale reflecting skin of Castiel, sitting up right on the bed, straddling Dean's lap.

He couldn't see the fine details but Sam was mesmerized as he watched Cas breathing heavily from his mouth, rocking up and down slowly. He couldn't take his eyes away now, his own breath picking up hotly.

His dark hair shadowed his face, but the rest of him looked shiny, as if a layer of sweat had formed over his entire body. He watched as Dean's hands wound up to caress Cas' chest, kneading his flesh as he rocked up into him. 

Sam was stunned as Cas let out needy breaths, his form lifting up before coming back down. Cas repeated the action a few times and Sam didn't even mind as much when he heard his brother let out a stifled moan.

Cas increased in speed, Sam now certain that Cas was riding him, something he had only heard of. Cas let out a throaty moan before Dean hushed him, pulling him down for a kiss and halting his movements. They laughed between themselves as Dean rolled them over, "Shhh, baby, you want to wake everyone up?"

"Can't help it, feels so fucking good."

"Christ, yeah it does. You're so fuckin' good, Cas."

Cas let out a small breathy laugh as he lulled his head to the side, facing the closet door that served as Sam's hiding place. His breath caught in his throat as Cas' mouth fell open in silent pleasure as Dean sucked marks into his neck. He swore Castiel was looking straight at him, his blood running hot. Cas, however, shut his eyes in pleasure as Dean hoisted his leg up and began to rock into him again, his lips never leaving his neck.

Sam was paralyzed. He couldn't move even if he wanted to. Something else was happening to him too, however. He couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away from the curve of Cas' neck, or the way his face looked slack with tension-free bliss. His lips looked soft and slick from where Sam was and the flutter of his eye lashes were tantalizing. Sam felt a strange tightness of his pants and he tried to shift his position in the closet to relieve the pressure.

He couldn't see his brother's face from here thankfully, as it was still buried in Cas' neck. But he could see the open pale thigh of Cas' leg as it wrapped around the contrasting tan of Dean's hip. The way Cas bit his lip to keep in the sounds he wanted to make was sinful. But not as much as the way he threw his head back in ecstasy, a hand coming up to clutch at Dean's bicep firmly. 

His voice sounded wrecked when he whispered, desperate and gravely, "Dean- mmmh, yes. Oh Christ, don't stop. Don't stop."

He could barely hear his brother over the sound of the bed creaking slightly, the rustle of blankets dancing around through the darkness, "Fuck, Cas, you feel so good- I got you baby, I got you." Their breathing picked up and for a moment, Sam was worried that Mom and Dad would hear the couple, "I ain't gonna last- I'm so close."

Cas released his brother's bicep and reached his hand in between them, a rapid motion accompanying them. Sam's own breathing was picking up, the smell of sweat and sex filtering in though the door. 

Suddenly, Cas threw his head back violently, his entire body tensing as his free hand dug into Dean's hair and forced their lips together. Dean didn't slow down, in fact, he picked up speed as he breathed coarsely through his nose. It was only another minute before Dean let out a sharp whine as he too tensed up, all movement stopping.

The stiffness in Sam's pants didn't let up, the only thing he could focus on as it developed into a light throb. He shut his eyes tight as he tried to sort through what was happening in his head, the sound of the pair making out doing nothing to calm him.

He must have sat in that closet for an hour after the room fell silent, too afraid to move. It was only after he chances a glance at the sound of his brother's light snoring before he shakily slid the door open. He tip toed through the darkness, neither of the sleeping figures stirring as he slid out of Dean's room. Sam tried to be as silent as possible as he made his way back to his room. He didn't dare investigate the hardness that sat between his legs as he battled the thoughts of what he had just witnessed out of his head. He laid awake in his bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling until the sun came up, not a single opinion forming in his mind.

For a while, Sam had a hard time meeting his brothers' eye, always finding an excuse to duck out of the room. He imagined this was what it was like when his friends would embarrassingly tell him about when they walked in on their parents having sex. Yet, something was different about this.

He had only noticed a shift in tone when Cas would come over. Cas had spent a lot of time at their place over the years, even before he and Dean were involved. That just meant more supervision now. Like his brother, Sam found it difficult to meet his eye but when he did, it was hard to look away. Suddenly the piercing blue of his eyes were gazing through him, watching the reruns in his head that began to form. He would excuse himself to do homework but in the end the assignment was turned in late.

He felt it again, a week later when Cas came over to hang out, a humid day forcing the boys inside. Dean had excused himself to take a shower before he and Cas planned to go and grab a bite to eat. That left him alone with Cas and try as he might, Sam couldn't seem to sit still. They had all been in the living room playing video games and after Dean was gone, Cas challenged him to a battle royalé on Street Fighter. After a few rounds Sam had glanced over and caught a glimpse of Cas' sharp hip peaking out from where his shirt rode up. Sam had to remind himself to breathe. Someone up above had to of been looking out for him, however, because Dean chose that moment to re-enter the room, his hair still dripping from the shower. Sam had made a charade of teasing his brother for taking so long because he really had to pee. 

He had locked himself in the misty fog of the bathroom for almost 10 minutes, trying to sort out the thoughts that had formed in his head from that one little sliver of exposed skin. It was the first time that he had beat himself up over the unwanted thoughts that formed. Castiel was his brother's boyfriend. How could he possible be thinking about him in any other way that wasn't as a friend?

Yet, he couldn't help himself any more than he could stop himself from breathing. Suddenly, flashes of pale bare flesh skidded across his vision, what it looked like exposed, what certain parts looked like coated in moonlight and sweat. The look of pure, consuming exctesy taking over every alluring feature of his face...

It was wrong, it was dirty. What he should have been thinking was, 'oh god, I never want to affiliate my brother and sex ever again'. What he was think, however, was how amazing it must be to see that expression up close. He wondered what his skin must taste like in that state and what his natural smell wafted into.

He had had to splash at least 7 handfuls of cold water from the sink onto his face to get himself to calm down.

The next time however, he wasn't so lucky. It was a late night and the family (plus Cas) had finished dinner a couple of hours ago. They had all curled up in the living room to watch a movie, their parents retiring for the night after the first one. Dean and Cas had moved to the couch and Sam claimed the love seat. They were half way through the second one when Sam felt his eyes stray. Dean and Cas were spooning, laying on their sides. But what Sam could only see, was the way his brother ran calming circles into his boyfriend's thigh. It was an innocent enough gesture but by the way Cas seemed to melt into the touch, Sam suddenly wished that that was him holding on gingerly to the long time neighbor boy.

Things only escalated from there. These thoughts began to work their way into his imagination late at night when he was alone in bed. He began to think of Cas as a person. How kind and considerate he was all the time. He admired his loyalty and passion for life. He found himself grinning at the way Cas tilted his head when he was trying to figure something out. A bright fire lit in him, filling him with warmth when the older man laughed. He found himself becoming hard when he thought of all the ways Cas' sharp tongue would feel against him. He watched how comfortable Cas looked lounging around the house with Dean and him. How casually, yet respectfully he spoke to their parents and how he always seemed to have the words to make things better. He remembers watching the way his back curled beneath his shirt as he walked away. He remembers a lot of things. 

And now, here he was, 17 and still ocassionally fantasizing about his brother's boyfriend in the most back-stabbing way possible. It made him feel like shit, like he was scum.

However, in the heated moments concealed by the latch of his locked door, all bets were off. Sam had quickly realized that once the inkling of a thought was placed into his head from the moment he woke up, it was all a downward spiral from there. Once he gave into the need to wrap a firm hand around his member, his mind was set free. There, he found no shame in imagining what Cas' gruff voice would sound like panting his name. He could almost feel the flames radiating off of him as Sam wound sink into his wet heat. He pictured the marks he would leave blemishing his skin in an almost painful way. He thought of what it would feel like to just be.


	2. Double Vision From The Blood We've Shed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains harsh words and cheating

It was all a haze. Sam had finally found a way to numbly move day by day, working on his bachlors degree in law at the local community college before he would transfer to Stanford for his masters. At the age of 23, he had made his living serving drinks at a bar notorious for its late nights. Once his hours were cut however, he was finding it difficult to make ends meat. 

A few months ago, once he had been struggling to make his rent for the 5th consecutive month in a row, his brother had made him an offer to move in with him. It was substantially cheaper and by luck, freed up some of his time to spend at home and study. 

He had thought that he could do this. But now, he was finding it harder and harder as that comfortable haze seemed to lift like an early spring morning mist.

He had thought he could do it, until he was around him all the time again. Castiel. A name and face that demanded sonnets to be written for.

This little crush of his had developed into full blown infatuation over the years. It had been easier for him once Dean and Cas had found a place across town, closer to the same community college that Sam now attended when Cas was getting his degree in accounting. The less he saw of the man, the less chances he had of doing something stupid, like blurting out how he really felt.

The pair had been happy to have him, moving him into their guest bedroom with no complaint. His brother seemed happy to spend time with him, insinuating that it was good having an extra pair of hands in the house.

Cas, a man who had always been a close friend, was thrilled to have more interaction, his job often demanding long hours of him.

This was temporary of course. At least until Sam either moved to further his education at Stanford or secured a better job. 

This thing inside of him had taken over, pushing him to always please and take care of Cas. Nearly every waking moment had at least a back drop of what Cas would do or think. Once he saw less and less of them however, he was finally able to distance himself enough to squash it down. But now, even to this day, it was still there, eating at the back of his brain.

He had been scared to move in with them at first, worried that he would fall back into the same patterns as before. But, it hasn't been the case. In fact, Sam had come to a good understanding that he and Cas would never happen, and he just had to move on. That wasn't to say that Sam really wanted to see anyone else. In his years alone, he had dated spottily here and there but he had never felt the same about anyone else. He was trying though. While he no longer lived in denial, he wasn't ready to move on just yet.

Once he moved in, things were easy. It was like returning home for the first time in a long time. He was happy to be around familiar, friendly faces, taking it in strides. He still felt soft towards the other man, sure, but it wasn't nearly as bad at it had been before. Five years at a distance from him would do that. Thank God.

He was thankful because he didn't live like that anymore. Stepping out of the shadow of his older brother and just letting life happen was fantastic. Besides, at this point, even before, what would he have honestly done? Stollen his brother's boyfriend? Even if he did wait for them to break up, dating Dean's ex-love-of-his-life would have been a rather low blow. 

He was happy with how things were now. Dean and Cas were still together, living happily in their little domesticated life. Sure, they had their fights, sometimes on the edge of breakup, but they had always pulled together through it all. They were far from perfect, sometimes taking their agitation and frustration out on one another but what healthy couple didn't?

The three scarcely had free time all together, often not seeing one another for a day or two do to constantly changing schedules. Sometimes Dean would ask him for help tuning up his car, throwing back a couple of beers before watching tv and ordering a pizza in time for dinner. Sometimes Sam would spread out his homework on the kitchen table, Cas joining him for coffee as he did paperwork from the office. They would chat briefly over breakfast, something that maybe only happened two or three times a week depending on who had to be up when. 

Sam was just happy that everything seemed to be sticking together on fine lines of porcelain glass, held together by strips of super glue.

Until it wasn't.

It was a quarter till five, Cas having just arrived from work, albite a little early. Dean had been lounging around most of the day, most likely nursing a hangover. Having finally made it home in the early hours of the morning, Dean didn't seemed pleased to have any light shining through the smallest of cracks at the windows. Sam had only one class today from noon to three, having settled down in his room for a little research for an upcoming project. He had just taken a break to grab a snack when something caught his attention.

It began as a faint argument heard through the ajar sliver of their bedroom door. Sam heard it as he walked down the hall, unable to help himself from straining his ears. He couldn't make out anything they were saying, but their words seemed firey and swift. Deciding not to easedrop, Sam pushed it off as another tiff, wondering why Cas was home so early anyway.

He made his way to the kitchen, popping some bread into the toaster before he hunkered down for some real studying. He had a test at the end of the week that he needed to ace. 

He jumped when he heard the sound of something slam from the hallway, voices now carrying out.

"Oh, don't you get pissy." Cas sounded exhausted.

Dean's voice was low with anger, gravel cutting the air in the house, "Don't tell me how to act in my own house."

"I will if you don't stop this right now."

"Oh I'm the one who needs to stop? I'm sorry, your highness, weren't you just telling me that I need to take more action?"

"You know damn well what I meant, Dean!"

"Honestly, I don't think I do! I don't know what the hell you want from me!"

Sam lifted his eyebrows in surprise, wishing that he could slink back down the hallway without being noticed. That slam however, had been their bedroom door, meaning that if he tried, they would notice him as he goes. Looks like he'll just have to hide out here until things blow over.

There was some muffled conversation that he couldn't hear, the voices lowering in volume but picking up in speed. Sam silently buttered his toast as he listened for any signs of a safe retreat. The voices however, grew louder, the pitch sounding echoed. Sam glanced over to see that they had trailed off into the hallway outside of their door, voices lower but filled with far more venom than he had ever seen. As long as he stayed in the kitchen, he was hidden. So stay he would.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Dean swore under his breath, "I'm the one whose-? What about Meg, huh?"

"Oh my-! Are you seriously not over that? Dean that was in fucking college. You know how that went."

"Okay, yeah, no- because that's how it is, isn't it? You can hold that kinda shit over my head for the rest of my life but I get nothing. No seems about right."

"Dean, you're being ridiculous."

"I'm being-" Dean struggled for words, "I'M being ridiculous?!"

"I don't even know how to talk to you when you're like this."

"Hey, you don't get to walk away. You wanted to start this fucking conversation than fine. Let's have this fucking conversation. Because God forbid we let something go in this house."

"Dean-"

"Because obviously you're so fucking self-conscious that you can't believe for one second that I wouldn't. You are so God damn pathetic that you need me to clarify every time!"

"Dean, that's not what I-"

Dean rose his voice so loud that Sam nearly flinched, "NO. No. YOU wanted to have this conversation. I'm sorry that every time this happens you need to put a leash on me cuz' you can't handle it. Well, guess what? I don't fucking need it! I don't need you pulling this crap on me every time I want to go out."

"Would you stop yelling?"

"Fucking Christ, you don't even want to talk about it do you? You're afraid of fucking everything."

"Would you keep it down?" There was a pause as Cas breathed, "I never said anything about you going out, Dean. I would just like some heads up so I'm not sitting at the table waiting on you all night worrying that something happened to you."

"And?"

"And what?"

"I'm waiting for it. Come on, hit me with it. Ask who I was with."

"Dean, I don't care who-"

"Obviously you do, otherwise we wouldn't be having this fight."

"Obviously, I don't, otherwise you wouldn't be the only one who WANTS to fight."

"Oh, yeah-"

"Fine, you want me to ask? Fine. Are you seeing Lisa again? Because that's something that you don't want me to know, right? Otherwise you would just tell me. And every time your hiding something from me, you pick a fight to cover it up. So, do I even need to ask?"

Lisa was the receptionist at the garage Dean worked at. As far as Sam knew, they had been friends but suddenly he stopped hearing about her a couple of months ago.

"Oh clearly it's bugging you. I mean, I wouldn't even need to keep things from you if I didn't think you would overreact over everything."

"You dodged the question."

"What the hell does it even matter? Yes, okay, I went out last night and she was there. End of story."

"Okay, than why the fuck do you feel the need to lie to me about it?"

"I didn't-"

"Yes, yes you did. I caught you dragging your sorry ass in here at 3 in the morning doing the walk of shame and you said you were with 'nobody' last night."

"Cas-"

"And instead of just saying, 'hey hon, I went out with Benny last night and we ran into Lisa' you come up with some bullshit cover story that you change halfway through telling it!"

"Because of THIS, Cas! Why the fuck do you have to go all analytical on me?"

"Why the fuck can't you just tell me the truth?"

"Maybe because I don't even know what to say to you anymore!"

Sam winced half way through nibbling on his toast. Shit, this was getting bad, fast. He thought about making a noise to alert them that he was present. Maybe then they would take a step back and calm down a bit, talk this out like gown ups.

It was too late, however, when Dean made a step towards the living room, Cas grabbing onto his sleeve before he ripped it from the other mans' grip. 

"No, screw this shit! I don't need this, I don't need you trying to watch over me 24/7! I don't need the headache! I don't need YOU!"

"Dean?" Cas sounded in the brink of tears.

"Fucking Christ, I'm tired, Cas. Okay? I'm fucking exhausted. I'm fucking done."

Sam saw sudden movement as Dean stormed past the kitchen towards the front door, he tried to look like he wasn't listening, overly focused on his snack.

Cas came trailing after him, "Dean. Dean!"

"Fucking done."

"Oh, done?"

"Yes, Cas! I'm done, we're done!"

"Why the hell have I even put up with you?!"

"Well, clearly your the fucking idiot that's been wasting their time!"

"So what, your just gonna go and get shit faced? And just be done?"

"That's the plan."

"You know what, fuck you. Go then! Don't bother coming back! Cuz I can't do this anymore!"

"You won't have to." 

With that Sam listened to the door slam, the pictures on the wall rattling with distress.

It was eerily quiet after that, the silence in the air heavy enough to cut. Sam stood, a little shell shocked, unsure of what had just happened. He stood, staring into empty space, listening. There was a crash as Cas threw something, shattering the quiet.

He stealthily stepped out of the kitchen, glancing into the living room to see Cas sitting on the couch, head in his hands.

He approached with caution, the form of the other man shaking lightly with now free flowing tears. The image struck something inside of Sam, a pain deep in his chest that was more old habit than feeling. Cas looked so defeated, curled in on himself, vulnerable and frail. His shoulders sagged, his hair falling over his eyes to shade his disgust.

Sam made careful steps to where Cas sat. The other man didn't move, covering his face from the world. He tentatively sat beside him, hoping that he would be able to find the proper words to say.

He ran a comforting hand up Cas' back, squeezing his shoulder, "Hey, Cas man, are you alright? Dean is just-"

"Being a total ass?"

Sam chuckled humorlessly, "Yeah, he can be."

Castiel made a vein attempt to wipe the tears from his eyes, "I don't know what to do anymore, Sam. He won't even talk to me anymore. Every time I try, it turns into... That."

"Well, I don't think that's because of you. He's been having a hard time lately. I think he's just trying to hold things together."

"I thought that was what I was doing. But I guess I'm just crap at that too."

"Hey, no. You're doing everything that you can, Cas. That's all anyone can ask."

"But it's not enough. It's never enough for him."

"Neither was the Hang Man taking down Thunder in '06, but that's just him."

Cas actually laughed at that, and at this close proximity, the way he smiled through his tears pulled at Sam's heart. 

He smiled, hoping that he could keep that look on Cas' face a while longer. He ran his hand back up Cas' spine in fondness, the other man leaning into it for comfort.

He hated this. 

He hates the way the light seemed diminished from Cas' eyes, his fire burning low. The usual passion behind his soft features looked smudged, leaving behind the charcoal contours of a tired looking man. 

They sat in silence for several long minutes as Sam tried to rub the stress out of his back. Afraid he would say the wrong thing, he kept quiet. He wasn't like Cas, he didn't know how to convince people that the world wasn't ending when they were in distress.

"What do you say we bake some tiny ham and cheese croissants?" Sam offered lightly.

Cas turned his cocktail of shook emotions towards him, the ghosts of a grin still playing on him lips, "You know how I enjoy stress-baking."

They tentatively made their way to the kitchen, the two digging various ingredients out of the fridge. Cas preferred making the dough from scratch as he filled Sam in on their fight. He helped set the oven before slicing pieces of packaged ham and sliced cheese. He had the fleeting notion that it was more for Cas to unload rather than inform him.

"So, I don't know if you knew, or heard him come in last night?"

"No, but I knew he was going out after work yesterday."

"Well, he failed to inform me. Anyway, you remember Lisa?"

"Yeah, I heard her name dropped when you guys were... You know."

"Yeah, well- she works with Dean at the shop, and she started hanging out with Dean a few months ago. Dean told me once that she had made a move on him- he never told me how exactly- but it had happened... And he swears nothing happened but suddenly they were hanging out all the time and that's not usually something that happens if you deny someone who is interested in you."

"Yeah, that seems odd."

"So, you know- naturally I started asking questions. There were nights that he wouldn't come home until late and he would tell me who he was with. But once I started asking- he would get defensive... And well... That's never a good sign."

"That doesn't really sound like Dean..."

Cas took a deep breath, shaking his head as he kneed the dough, his eyes hooded by heavy lids, "No, it doesn't. But... I guess people change..."

Sam was having a hard time focusing on his task. He didn't want to believe it, but Sam sure as hell knew what that sounded like...

It hurt him. He knew it hurt Cas more, to even have to question Dean's loyalty, but by association, it hurt him too. Sometimes Dean could be a real sleaze. He wouldn't deny that. Even though he had been committed to Cas for so long, his brother still had the tendency to... Appreciate the female body. He often made comments about girls walking down the street, actresses in movies and on tv, even women in the supermarket. But for him to actually cheat on Cas?

That was a whole new level of not cool. He wasn't saying it was true, but when all signs point to it... It's even harder to believe his brother has a will of steal. He was only a man after all.

They worked on their baking, all plans of studying pushed onto the back burner. Sam tried to crack jokes to lighten the mood or if only to listen to the beautiful sound of Cas' laugh that still did something to him to this day.

When the croissants were in the oven, Sam stood closely to Cas, the need to keep him safe overpowering. Cas was balling up the remaining dough, looking at his hands as they worked but vision suggesting he were galaxies away. Sam leaned on the counter for support, one hand resting on top and his front facing the other man as he worked. 

As he watched the way the dough worked beneath his nimble fingers, Sam too was lost in his thoughts. Before he knew it, words were forming that carried more meaning than he had anticipated, "You know your not pathetic right?"

"Hm?"

"What Dean said? It's not true. Hell, there are a lot of things that he says about you that aren't true."

Cas was silent. 

"I don't think your dramatic or overwhelming. He was way out of line when he called you pathetic."

"Sam-"

"You're not a waste of space, Cas."

The other man let out a deep breath, one Sam hadn't noticed him holding.

His heart was pounding, he suddenly had to fight the impulse to scream. He wanted this to go away. Not for him but for Cas. He fucking hated watching him hurt. Cas and Dean may have been happy, but they weren't perfect. They hadn't been for a long time. Cas was so close, he could see the pain and suffering swirling behind his eyes as he looked up at him.

Suddenly, shocking himself, he couldn't bare it any longer. 

Before he could think or stop himself, he leaned in and brushed his lips across the other mans'.

He pulled back only enough to gauge his reaction, his breath hot and scared as it breezed past his parted lips. If Cas walked away from him now, he wasn't sure what he would do.

Castiel was breathing heavily now, shocked into stillness as he closed his eyes to think, "Sam?"

Sam stood his ground, "I'm not sorry."

He watched as Cas licked his lips, a near sway to his stature as he noticed fresh tears forming at the corners of his lashes. Cas suddenly leaned back in and reclaimed his lips, kissing him back with vigor.

Sam let his eyes flutter closed, relishing in the soft tenderness of the other mans' lips. His hand wound into Cas' hair, the other one gingerly coming up to cup his cheek. He felt dampness there, using his long fingers to gently wipe the streams away. A minute passed before Cas' hand came up to rest on his bicep, the other one trailing a path from his chest to his shoulder. They were sticky and just a tad oily from the dough.

He was afraid to open his eyes, that in a flash of light, the scene would dissolve and leave him in an utter pit of loneliness as it had so many times before. He just wanted Cas to be alright.

Cas tongue tentatively brushed over his bottom lip, a layer of concealed desperation sifting to the top of his demeanor. Sam whole-heartedly obliged, parting for him and cocking his head to the side for better access.

It felt amazing. Twenty times better than he had ever imagined in his entire life. It was tainted with the bitter taste of salt and anguish but somehow Sam thought that it was all the more fitting. It mirrored not only Sam's own swirl of heartache but Cas' filtered affliction throughout the years. It was in that moment that Sam could recount the slow downfall of Cas' spirit in his domestic life.

Sam ran a hand down his side, gripping at his hip for stability as Cas' shifted with him, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him close. It was a bit awkward due to Sam having almost a full head on him, but it was perfect. 

He bent down to accommodate the size difference, making it easier on Cas as the other man's hands started to roam with enthusiasm. They seemed lost, not sure where to rest their hands for long before the need to explore became too strong. They kissed passionately, steam building between them before they were cut short by the sound of the oven-timer going off. 

They pulled apart as Cas glanced over his shoulder at it, the look on his face suggesting that he had forgotten they had just been baking. Cas suddenly tore himself from him, turning his back to retrieve the snacks from the oven, placing them on top to cool and shutting the appliance off. He stood with his back to Sam for a long moment, his hands on his hips as he tried to make sense of the situation.

Sam stood at the counter, trying to get his breathing under control. His eyes darting between Cas' pensive form and a stain on the countertop, unable to focus as his brain and heart did backflips. 

The silence was deafening, stretching on into something painful. Sam felt the panic riding up in him, threatening to take over. He couldn't believe what had just happened. What was more, he desperately didn't want it to go away. He ran a hand over his face as he took a deep breath. He had just opened his mouth to say something, anything, before Cas was on him again.

Cas pulled him back down by the back of the neck, reclaiming his lips as he ran a curious hand up the front of his shirt. He was barely able to contain a stifled moan of the other mans' name when he brushed over a nipple, kneading at his firm chest. 

In a flurry, Cas pulled his shirt up and over his head for him, tossing it aside as Sam took a hold of his plump ass, pulling them flush together. Cas gasped lightly into his mouth when his growing interest rubbed against his thigh and without thinking Sam used his strength to hoist him up off of the floor.

Cas wrapped his legs around his waist, licking into his mouth with want. He let out little mewls of arousal, clutching at him for support. Cas leaned far enough away to get his own shirt off, forcing their chests together after the article was disposed of.

The contact of skin-on-skin set Sam on fire, his member now straining painfully in his jeans. This was more than he could ever hope for.

All thoughts of reprocussions vanished from his head. His blood was pounding in sexual desire, any ideas of how unethical this was forming into fuel that pushed him forward. This was so wrong. And that's what made it so enticing.

Suddenly, he didn't care. All that mattered was the way Cas was rocking into him for more, edging him on. 

He clumsily walked them to his bedroom, Cas gasping with need every time he acquired friction.

Sam laid him back onto his neatly made guest bed, pulling away to gaze into the other mans' eyes for confirmation. Cas' lips were beautifully kiss swollen and red, his breath coming through ragged as they parted. He stared deeply back at him, searching him for regret. When he found none, Cas went for his pants, undoing the button and zipper swiftly and yanking his pants down. Sam kicked them off, shakily doing the same to Cas', pulling them off and throwing them across the room. Cas was breath taking, a flash of the first time he had seen the man so open and vulnerable playing at the back of his mind. If anything, he had grown more exquisite with age, his toned physique glowing in the late evening light.

Lovingly, he bent back down to kiss Cas' abused lips, dragging it out slowly as he cautiously pulled down the other mans' boxers. Cas gasped lightly when Sam's fingers brushed his erect shaft, his fingers tangling in the comforter.

Without a word, Sam pulled back, taking the other's garmets off completely. Without hesitation he bent down to lick a stipe up Cas' proud cock, shivering with the light moan he received in return. All the years imagining what that would taste like couldn't hold a candle in comparison.

He had never done this before but his fascination outweighed his nerves. Carefully he took the head of the other mans' member into his mouth, wrapping a hand around the base. He glanced up to see Cas had covered his eyes with a forearm, breathing loud and labored.

He wasn't able to take much, but what he didn't feel comfortable taking he stroked with his fist in time as he began to bob his head. Cas' free hand came up to tangle in his hair, gathering the loose strands of his long locks and holding them back so they didn't cover his face.

Cas was now fully erect, his cock solid with pulsing need. Releasing the member, Sam nipped at his v-line, laying a trail of sloppy open mouthed kisses all the way up his stomach, chest, and neck. He had to fight the earge to suck marks over every inch of skin he could reach, if only to save Cas from having to hide. Instead he noses at the underside of his chin before leaning up to look down on him.

Cas had removed his arm and Sam's heart broke when he saw the labored breaths of near panic escaping him. His eyes were red rimmed, the threat of more tears forming along the edges. He bit his lip, a vain attempt to calm himself down. 

Sam reached up to brush a stray strand of hair off of his sweaty forehead. He bent down close to him, trying to force the older mad to hold eye contact, "Cas... What do you need?"

Castiel pursed his lips, shaking his head lightly as a single tear escaped his hold. He glanced up, a tsunami of emotions playing over his entire body. Sam dipped down, kissing the side of his jaw before whispering in his ear, "What do you need?"

There was a long pause before a stifled reply was finally heard, barely audible, "I just want the pain to stop."

His voice was broken and cracked, the hurt evident on every spectrum.

Sam came up to rest their foreheads together, "I'll do anything, Cas. I'll take care of you. Let me take care of you."

He kissed the other man on the forehead before jumping up out of bed. He didn't want to leave Cas alone, but he needed to retrieve his emergency travel packets of lube from the bathroom. You never could be too prepared and since he began questioning his sexuality, he had been experimenting.

He hastily retrieved the packets, returning to his bedroom to find Cas just as he had left him. He laid himself between the other man's legs, helping him prop them up to expose his tight looking hole. Sam kissed at his flat stomach, appreciating the flawless skin that seemed to reflect anything that came into contact with it.

He ripped open the first packet, depositing the contents over his fingers. He glanced up to see that Cas had managed to get his breathing under control, the brightest shade of sapphire meeting his in hazy interest. Cas nudged his side with his foot in impatience, not a single word threatening to leave him.

Sam brushed some hair out of his vision with his dry hand, rubbing soothing circles into his thigh as he ran a lubed finger over his entrance. Cas shivered in anticipation, his muscles flexing. He made sure to take his time in inserting the first one up to his second knuckle, the older man's ring clenching around him. He waiting a moment before slowly pistoning it in and out, not wanting to move too fast. He would occasionally steal a glance up at Cas only to see the man watching him as he worked.

It didn't take long before he inserted a second finger, Cas humming in comfort. He worked on scissoring them for a while, soon engaging a third.

He watched the growing rise and fall of Cas' stomach, each breath chipping away bits of shrapnel from his control. The further he plunged, the more Cas seemed to melt into the surface beneath him, swallowing him up. Sam let out an internal sigh of relief when the other man's sharp centralized inhales of agony moulded into weak gasps of pleasure, his face relaxing with the feeling.

He watched the way his brow loosened, his eyes fluttering shut. The tension in his jaw seemed to subside with the drag of skin Sam provided. He made something short of a whimper before his eyes opened, just barely into narrow slits as he looked up at the younger Winchester, "Please? Sam, please?"

A shiver ran down his spine at the way Cas said his name, the short syllables dripping with a thousand meanings. 

He made quick work of removing his fingers, shucking off his own tight fitting boxers and freeing himself from those confides. Cas stared up at him, watching the way he ripped open a second packet and swiftly coated his raging cock. Cas' gaze seemed to be locked on the size and length of him, licking his lips.

He stroked himself thoroughly, kneeling before the only man he could ever think about since he was 15. His wet dreams couldn't compare, the filthy images turning black and white in his mind. As he looked down on the other man, Sam felt a coiling hunger in the pit of his stomach. His breath heavy on the placid air, Sam tried to memorize the dirty streaks of tear trails staining Cas' face. In this moment, he felt nothing but hatred towards his brother and anyone like him. Dean had taken a once stunning angel of light and purity and dragged him through to hell, leaving him there to drown. "Cas, is this okay? I need you to tell me that this is okay."

Cas stared up at him for several silent seconds, his pupils darting over Sam's form as he seemed to search into infinite galaxies for the answers, "It's okay, Sam. This is okay. We're okay."

He bent over Cas' form, nipping the shell of his ear as he tentatively lined himself up, "Let me take the pain away, honey."

With that, he sunk in slowly, the head of his member pushing past the tight ring of muscle and enveloping him in heat. He pushed in carefully, listening to the sounds Cas made beneath him. Once he was a majority of the way in, Cas' back arched into him, unused to the girth. It wasn't pain that escaped his lips, however. Perfect.

He let Cas get used to the adjustment before pulling back out and sliding back in with more grace. Sam's muscles clenched with the sensation, his mouth falling open in pleasure. He was thankful for Cas' experience, the desire to build speed unhindered by worry.

Before long, he set a steady pace, wanting to thrive in the feeling for as long as his body would let him. His body, however, was not so patient. The sound of Cas' mewling little stifled moans drive him crazy, demanding that he give and take as much as he physically could.

He sat up on his knees, the straightforward angle just on the other side of not enough. It did, however, allow him a view that made Sam moan out in satisfaction. Cas' body was coated in a layer of sweat, his eyes dilated, peaking out from the tiny chasm of vision, pushing the blue out to the edges. His cheeks were flushed, the pink veins dancing across his features. And his lips, Christ, his lips were so inviting that Sam couldn't resist bending over him, pushing the other's leg flat against his chest in order to reach them. 

He kissed with ever ounce of passion and love that he possessed. His thrusts built into something brutal and desperate, wanting, needing more. The sound of skin slapping skin was overtaking the room, his thighs beginning to burn in the most enjoyable way possible. The only sound that accompanied his thrusts was the frigid squeaks of protest from the mattress springs and the little huffs that either of them let out, playing around each other like a masterpiece symphony.

Cas dug his nails painfully into his back, dragging them down the skin as he broke their kiss. The other man threw his head back, letting out a particularly loaded moan, "Oh fuck- yes! Harder!"

Without Sam's mouth to stifle him, Cas let loose a string of curses and pleas. He pistoned with all that he had, the frame of the bed rocking into the wall. 

He could feel the tall-tail signs of his end approaching, the heat in his stomach forming a coil. Sam strategically spit into his previously lubed hand, reaching between them to wrap a slick palm around the other man's cock. He stroked fast, taking it in time with his thrusts. Cas scrambled for purchase, his hands clutching and squeezing at anything he could reach.

Sam came first, the heat exploding into bright stars of ecstasy. He swore he felt every molecule of his being expand, letting bits of light and dust shine between them, through him. 

As he rode out his orgasm, his thrusts stuttered, slowing. He felt his thick seed paint the inside of the other man, adding to the wet squelching sound of their haze. 

Nearly overwhelming, Sam continued to push into him until the body beneath him tensed up. Cas let out a strangled noise as he came, heavy ropes erupting between them, adding to the mess.

Sam finally slowed into a halt, unable to catch his breath. He rested his head against the others' shoulder, the fuzz of his post-orgasm euphoria strong. He listened as Cas' heartbeat slowly de-escalated before pulling out, his brain swimming in his skull.

He finally flopped down beside the man, Cas turning on his side to face him. He couldn't help the huge smile that spread across his cheeks as he came back down, rubbing the sweat away that had formed around his eyes. 

He felt a chuckle rise out of him. He couldn't believe that that had just happened. 

No longer touching, Sam felt like it was 10 degrees too hot, yet in a good way. Cas was silent beside him, his breathing now under control. The younger Winchester let out a breathy laugh, "holy shit."

When he glanced over at Cas, the other mans' face seemed to be formed into an unreadable mask. He didn't seem mad. And he sure as hell didn't look as wrecked as he did earlier. At least not in the same way.

Concerned, Sam turned slightly towards him, "You okay?"

Cas blinked over at him, "Hm? Yeah. No, I'm good."

He furrowed his brow slightly at Cas' answer, the other man never meeting his eye. 

This was a huge thing. Cas just needed a minute to get all his thoughts in order. They could talk about it after he cleaned up.

"I'm gonna use the bathroom real quick."

He stood up, stealing short glances at the other man as he made his way to the bathroom. He left one long lingering look on Cas' naked back, turned away from the door before flicking the light on and retreating inside. 

Once the door was closed, Sam had to take a deep breath. His smile was back, and he couldn't help but let his arms flail out in a pump of victory. Holy shit, it had really happened. His dreams had finally become a reality.

He flipped up the lid to the toilet to pee as the thoughts of his brother re-entered his mind. Yet, they weren't thoughts of regret or guilt as he imagined they would be. Instead, the idea of a million new futures entered his mind. Fuck his brother. He had finally seen the blunt of Castiel's soul and it was a hundred times more beautiful than he had ever imagined. 

Dean didn't deserve him. He had listened to Dean bitch for years about all of the things wrong with Cas but he couldn't have been more wrong. Cas was perfect in every shape, way, and form. Dean was a poison, taking Cas down to a new dethroned level every chance he got. And he would be damned if he sat back now as Dean drove him into an early grave.

He washed himself off in the sink, rinsing out a warm washcloth to bring to Cas. 

He knew this wasn't going to be easy, but Castiel was worth fighting for. They would talk about what happened, figure out if Cas was ready to move on, and pack their shit and leave now if they have to.

He pushed open the bathroom door, flicking off the light behind him before he stopped dead in his tracks.

His bed was empty, Cas' clothes missing from his bedroom floor.

He took a few tentative steps towards the bed, the slight tinge of rejection beginning to form in his chest. He sat down in the edge of his bed in the silence of the room, his eyes focused on the leaking washcloth still balled up in his hands. 

He sat, visions of why Cas would have left forming in his imagination. He took a few deep breaths as he told himself that Cas would just need some time. This was a huge adjustment after all. It's been a very emotional day.

He adjusted himself on the bed, tucking a leg up as something caught his eye. He looked over at the pillow that Cas had just been resting on, dark blotches blemishing the cover. 

Tears.


	3. The Only Way I'm Leavin' Is Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains subjects of unconsentual advancements

6am and he still lay awake in his own cold bed. 

Castiel had spent the remainder of the prior day pacing his bedroom floor, his eyes sore from the amount of tears that he had produced. He was too afraid to even leave his room after what had happened. Too afraid to even sleep.

This was awful. Things had quickly turned from bad to catastrophic in the span of hours. How the hell had his entire life turned sideways so quickly?

Once his feet were aching from tracking, he had sat up in bed, a pair of old boxer briefs pulled up around his hips. He had been doing that thing again. That nervous thing he did, where he scratched at his thighs in fretfulness until they were raw and red.

A thousand threads of doubt and loathsome criticism danced around him in milestones of color, overloading his vision in a painting of sorrow. The threads seeped through his skin, caking to his insides and pulling tight, wrapping around his stomach, making him nauseous, constructing the muscles of his legs, making them weak, cutting into his lung, making it hard to breath.

He couldn't believe himself. He was so fucked up.

He lost Dean and now he had lost Sam as a friend, forever. Things could never be the same. The colors blended together, confusing his brain as it ran in circles, overloading. He faded in and out of near panic attacks, teetering on the edge of a meltdown for hours with absolutely no way to calm himself.

Christ, he hates himself. Never in his life had the idea of revenge fucking ever appealed to him. And with Sam? Arguably his best friend, besides Dean? The love-of-his-life's kid brother who he watched grow up, who he spent the majority of his life looking out for, who had and never would hurt him. Shit, he was fucked up.

Every awful thing that Dean had ever said to him, every venomous name, every derogatory slang felt true. He was self-conscious, he was pathetic. He was nothing. 

His world was spinning too fast to keep up, everything shifting and falling off of the shelves. What the fuck would he do? What does he say when he see's Dean again? He has to see him, all of Dean's stuff was here. What would they do with the house? The furniture? Was he allowed to even talk to Benny any more? Charlie? John? Mary?

He couldn't even bring himself to look at Sam. He should have never given into his impulse.

Sam was a great guy. He was one of Cas' best friends, but... He knew how Sam felt about him.

Sam had always been interested in him, at least as long as he could remember. Cas figured he had never said anything because of Dean. And to fuck with his emotions like that...? That was a new level of low.

He never meant for any of this to happen. He meant it when he said that he was done with Dean but that sure as hell didn't mean he didn't still love him. Dean was the love of his life, but if Dean didn't love him back as much as he used to then he wasn't going to keep fighting to stay in a dying relationship. 

He was so messed up. It was all too much. He just wanted to curl up in bed and never wake up.

It wasn't until almost 8 that Cas heard movement in the house. Someone crossed down the hall and eventually exited the house. A peak down the hall to Sam's empty room showed that it was him leaving for school for the day. 

Cas threw on a pair of pajama pants, his schedule free of work and only giving him more agonizing time to think about what had happened. He had spent the morning eating ice cream and junk food, a cloud of depression settling over him as he watched reruns of Judge Judy.

He searched for anything that would take his mind off of things, alternating between wishing that Dean would walk through the front door and never wanting to see his face again. He caught himself tearing up whenever someone's own personal court drama struck too close to home for him, finally saving himself by switching on a documentary. It was quality and entertaining, describing the lives of some of history's most ruthless dictators.

He knew he should probably get up and do something productive. Clean the house, run to the store, work on some paperwork, but everything seemed like too much effort. His entire body felt weighted down, his head foggy with disinterest. 

Around 1pm he finally shut the tv off, making his way back to the master bathroom for a much needed shower. He spent an abnormally long time in there, zoning out as the warm water glided over his spent muscles. He hadn't even done anything today and he still felt exhausted.

He stole away back to his room, firmly shutting the door and enclosing himself in before Sam would returned home.

This had turned out to be a mistake however, his body guiding him to his bed where he found the smell of Dean everywhere. He had spent the better part of an hour with his face buried into his loves' pillow, tears freely flowing again as his brain decided to trace over every happy moment that they shared together since high school. The only good thing about this was that the overwhelming feeling of missing Dean shadowed his self loathing for what had happened with Sam.

He spent the remainder of the night moping, trying to finish some paperwork in vain. He waited until he heard Sam retreat to bed before tiptoeing to the kitchen for a meager dinner of cold pizza and water.

When he had finally fallen asleep, his dreams had been of broken memories, smiles that no longer seemed real, and shadows of his own regrets.  
-

It wasn't until the next day that he saw Dean again. As far as he knew, Sam should have left for his night classes an hour or so ago, leaving the house empty. 

When he had finally gotten home from work it was to find a very familiar black Impala parked in the drive way. He pulled up, seeing the tired looking form of Dean siting on the porch, his head hanging low.

He pulled into the driveway, his Lincoln Continental paling in comparison, as it always had, to the other mans' car. He sat for several long minutes, trying to pull himself together before finally stepping out of his car on shaky legs.

He approached the other man carefully, his head still hung as he drew near. Cas halted a couple of feet from him, waiting until Dean looked up. His candy apple eyes shon bright in the late evening light, his lips parsed together in thought, "Hey."

Cas shifted the weight of his feet, "Hey."

There was a long silence as the two battled themselves, trying to keep eye contact and failing.

It was Dean who took a deep breath first, "I uh- left my house key in the kitchen and- um, no one was home."

"Oh... Yeah, I thought I saw it in there somewhere."

"So..."

Cas felt his breath stutter, "So...?"

Dean finally forced himself to keep eye contact, "Can we, uh, talk? Inside maybe?"

Cas blinked a few times as he tried to will himself to believe that this had to be done, "Of course."

Cas led them in, trying to keep a reasonable distance as he unlocked the door and deposited his briefcase on the kitchen table. 

Dean motioned for him to follow and Cas did as they trailed back to their shared bedroom.

As Dean shut the door, he cleared his throat, "Would you like to- uh, sit down?"

Cas nodded stiffly as he did, making himself comfortable on the edge of the bed as he kicked his shoes and overcoat off.

It was quiet for a few long stressful moments as Dean began to pace in front of him, his own jacket staying on. Cas ran a hand over his face in awkwardness as Dean appeared to take another long deep breath.

"Okay, so, listen-"

Cas was ready for this but he sure as hell wasn't ready. He let out a deep sigh as he leaned forward slightly, "So how do you want to do this?"

Dean stopped his pacing, as he steadied a hurt look directly at him, "Don't- don't do this."

God damn did he love this man. It was particularly that reason that he couldn't look at him, not with the thought of what he had done threatening to push its way back into his mind, "Dean, I know this is hard. But if you meant what you said-"

Dean charged forward, placing his hands on Cas' knees and leaning into him, "But I didn't, Cas! I didn't mean a goddamn word of it. That's why I came."

Cas was taken aback, yet he shook his head in disbelief, "Dean-"

Dean took hold of his face, gentle palms cupping his cheeks, "Hey, no- can I just-? Cas, baby, please, I practiced this a million times in the car on the way over here, just let me talk."

Cas stared up at him with big doe eyes, unable to prevent the swirl of guilt and heartbreak that overtook him.

"I was stupid, okay? No, actually I was downright idiotic. I'm a fucking moron, Cas, but than again you knew that." Dean stroked a thumb over his quivering skin.

"I shouldn't have said the things that I did, I wasn't thinking, and you know what? You're right. What you were asking me wasn't outlandish at all. I just-" Dean glanced up as he blinked repeatedly a few times, "I don't know what to do sometimes, okay? I panic and I get scared that you won't agree with some of the choices that I make."

From here, Cas could see the threat of tears in his eyes, "You're right, you have a right to know things, fuck, we used to tell each other everything. So here it is," Dean took a deep breath, removing his hands from Cas' face and steadying them on the bed on either side of his waist, "Lisa did make a move on me. Benny, Garth, her, and I went out for a drink after closing up and she ran her hand up my thigh. I talked to her later and told her I was in a very committed relationship and not interested. She understood and she dropped it." He was silent for a long moment, seemingly struggling with what he would say next, "But, later she introduced me to her son, Ben, he's a great kid, and she would occasionally bring him into the shop when she didn't have anyone to watch him. He's so smart, he likes to tag along with me when I'm working and I'd tell him how stuff worked and there would be times that she'd ask me to watch him after I got off until she did too."

Dean told his story with sagged shoulders, like he was ashamed. 

"It kinda became routine, yah know?" He chuckled.

Cas searched his close features for a long time, he wasn't sure if he believed him but his deliverance seemed so genuine. He knew he was making a confused face, when Dean kept dropping his eyes in fear of judgment, "Okay... So why didn't you just tell me that?"

Dean took a long breath, more out of need to stall, "Well... It's weird. Because I love Ben, he's amazing, and it got me thinking 'I want my kid to be just like him some day', so... I started to fool myself, ya know? I would catch myself pretending that he was mine and when I realized I was doing it... It felt wrong... Like I was cheating or something and I didn't want you to think that- that I was chasing some family that we could never really have. At least not by blood anyway."

Cas didn't know what to say. He didn't have to come up with anything thankfully before Dean purses his lips, his eyes watering, as he bent down between Cas' knees, "Because I do, Cas. I want to have a family. But I want to have it with you."

The tears finally spilled over Dean's normally dry lids. He had only ever seen Dean cry a few times in all the years they had been together.

He folded one of his calloused palms over Cas' hand and squeezed, "I know- I know I'm an asshole sometimes and- and I don't deserve it, but-"

Dean paused as he gazed through his bitter tears, mapping Cas' face as he had done a million times in love, "please? Cas, please, I am literally on my knees right now, begging you to give me another chance. Because- because I can't with out you. I can't survive. I'd live sure, but- but I wouldn't want to. And that's- exactly what was playing over and over and over again in my mind the last couple of days when I was sleeping on Benny's couch."

He took Cas' face back into his hands. Cas blinked to the feel of stinging in his eyes. He hadn't even noticed that he was crying too.

He was the worst kind of person.

"It's you, angel, it's always been you. It'll always be you."

A thousand shards of glass where puréeing in his chest right now. He couldn't tell him. He wanted to, God knows he did, but he felt his lips part and freeze, his mouth uncomfortably dry, "Dean..."

He rested their foreheads together, "I love you, Castiel Shurley. Even when I hate you, I love every Goddamn thing about you." Dean ever so slightly shook his head, whispering, his breath a whimper, "Please... Please don't go..."

Cas lay a hand over one of Dean's, his warmth and his security wrapping him up in a blanket of solidarity, "Okay." He tried to force a smile. He wanted to say that he couldn't do it without Dean either, the words tasting too foul on the ridge of his mouth. He wanted to weep, to collapse into Dean's arms and have him say it was going to be alright. But his honesty would only take this moment away, a moment that he so desperately needs right now in order to stray from falling apart. "Shh, I'm not going anywhere... I'm not- I love you."  
-

Cas lay in bed after the most painful dinner he had ever had to trudge through.

Once they had talked about working on their relationship and the communication that it sometimes lacked, Cas and Dean had tried to go on as if nothing had happened. The weight of the other night had dulled with Dean's calming presence, an effect that the other man had always had on him. They had curled up on the couch together while dinner was in the oven, flipping through channels. The pair retreated into an old game they had used to play, if only to recapture the feeling they had used to have when their relationship was still new. Turning down the volume they paused as each channel changed, making up voices and stories to string together until they were curled in on each other laughing. Their interactions had been forced and unrefined at first, each trying their hardest to pull themselves back a few years before everything had been routine and hectic. It was a strange concept. To fall into old routines in order to derive from the new one. But it worked.

Until Sam came home.

He had walked in, freezing in shock when he saw his older brother wrapped around Cas in the living room. Dean had rubbed his head in meekness, apologizing for all the commotion a couple of days prior. He had told Sam that everything was alright, however, and that he and Cas were going to work on strengthening themselves as a couple and that he promised things were going to go back to normal. Dean had no idea that that was an impossibility.

Sam had glowered, his brother taking it for face value, assuming Sam was mad at him for walking out. Sure Sam was still pissed about that but it was shadowed by his astonishment and unfathomable hurt that Cas had left him completely high-and-dry to give Dean another chance. Dean had no idea.

Cas spent dinner strategically avoiding eye contact with Sam, conversation being kept to as few words as possible. Every time Dean caught his eye though, Cas dusted a smile on reflex.

The few times that he and Sam had made eye contact across the dinner table, he purses his lips, his eyes begging Sam to keep quiet. He had somehow managed to fix something he thought was unfixable and he wasn't willing to let it slip away. To his credit, Sam didn't say a word about the other night. He didn't mention their fight, he didn't mention what had happened between him and Cas, and he didn't mention how the blue-eye'd man hadn't said a word to him since.

Once they finished eating Cas had bolted from the room, unable to stand another minute between the two men who had been his entire life for as long as it counts. He had retreated to the bathroom, his anxiety through the roof as he tried to calm himself down. A few minutes later, Dean knocked asking if he was alright. He quickly stripped down to his boxers and hastily telling his lover that he was exhausted and ready for bed. He brushed his teeth and straightened himself out, not wanting Dean to question why he was so disheveled. Dean, seeming happy to just be back at home, pecked him on the lips when he came out, saying he was going to take a shower first before he joined Cas in bed. 

Now he lay awake, wrapped under the comforter and listening to the shower run, his eyes darting up and down the paint chipped wall, trying to map out every flaw. His half lidded eyes strayed upward when the bathroom door opened in their lit bedroom. Dean strolling out with nothing but a red towel tied around his waist and a mismatched graphic one being teased over his hair, capturing the water droplets that still clung to him. 

Dean looked tired, a content smile edged onto his lips as he flitted about their bedroom, throwing his dirty cloths in the hamper, his watch and wallet being stored on their dresser top.

Cas wracked his eyes over Dean's body, his healthy looking love handles glistening with rivulets of moisture. An image skirted across his mind and he couldn't help but notice the differences between Dean and Sam's body that stuck out. Where Dean carried a slight pudge to him that Cas loves, Sam is firmly built, all muscles and flat surfaces that Cas took interest in. The thought was unwelcoming, making Cas' stomach turn, a surge of hatred towards himself splashing over him. He turned over in bed, trying to get comfortable and closing his eyes so that maybe, just maybe Dean will think he is already asleep.

Either way didn't seem to matter however, Dean having shut off the light and approach their bed with soft steps. Cas was taken slightly off guard when his side of the bed dipped down, Dean leaning over him with a hand comfortably running up the blanketed form of his leg and resting on his waist. 

Cas could feel the hot steam from the shower still clinging to him, the weight bending down as Dean placed a loving kiss on his cheek. Cas hummed in contentment, "You're going to get the bed all wet" he half heartedly grumbled from beneath his covers.

Dean kissed his cheek a few more times before moving down his jaw, pulling the blanket down ever so slightly so he could trail his assault down Cas' neck. "Maybe" Dean muttered between kisses, "maybe that's part of the plan."

Cas instinctually craned his neck to give Dean better access, pulling the blanket down even more. Finally, together, they lifted one side of the comforter, Dean shucking off the towel still around his waist and crawling into bed on top of Cas. Dean took the opportunity to capture the other man's lips, sucking on them greedily. Cas turned onto his back leisurely wrapping his arms around his love as their kissing deepened.

He was so conflicted. His brain flipping circuits too quickly to be healthy. He loves Dean, always has and always will, but the moment was tainted with the protruding memory of who had been bent over him, exactly like this, only 42 hours ago. He squeezed his eyes shut, begging the guilt to subside long enough to enjoy having Dean back in his arms again. While what had happened didn't technically count as cheating, Dean having very clearly left him, Cas couldn't help but feel he had stabbed Dean in the back. Now, he was just trying to keep the metaphorical wound from bleeding, putting pressure on it to keep Dean alive while he muttered apologies that fell on already dead ears. 

Cas moaned and arched up when Dean ground his naked form down onto him, sparking physical interest from him. His arousal felt dirty in some way, no matter how sweetly  
Dean kissed him or how gently he caresses his skin.

Dean took particular pleasure in laying soft kisses anywhere he could find, whispering sweet words of 'beautiful' and 'perfect' that swirled around 'sorry's and 'never again'. 

Cas placed a soft hand on Dean's chest, nudging him to sit up. He used the space to reach over to the bedside table, fishing out their usual bottle of lube. Dean grinned eagerly, tentatively taking the bottle from his hand.

There was a long moment of silence as Dean let his hand with the bottle lay against the sheets. He didn't rush to open it in any fit of passion, he didn't devour Cas' lips, or ravish his body in a hurry. Their long moment stole Cas' breath away.

The love reflecting in Dean's eyes mirrored what once was. It reminded him of the way Dean used to look at him when they were still in the 'honeymoon' phase. The corner of Dean's lip curved up in an easy smile, his eyes sparkling, even in the dimly lit room. He trailed a finger over the line of Cas' jaw, breathing slow.

Dean hadn't looked at him like that in a long time.

Unable to take it anymore, Cas leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his lips. He couldn't bare to have Dean look at him like that right now. So many nights he had craved for nothing else, but tonight, with all that had happened... With Sam... He didn't think his heart could take it.

Instead, Cas wrapped a single hand around the nape of his neck, keeping Dean too close to see the cracks expanding inside of him.

Dean, oblivious, snuck a hand between them to tug Cas boxers down and off, dropping them off the edge of the bed. Sightlessly, he deposited a dollop of lube over his fingers, nudging Cas legs apart so he could prep him.

Cas would be lying if he said he didn't zone out for most of the foreplay, too caught up in his own head. He felt as if he were only partially there. Like a part of him, the part of him that was truly and wholeheartedly happy, was locked away in a box within the walls of his mind, banging on the sides, begging to come out.

Before he knew it, Dean was artfully sliding into him, the stretch pulling him out of his whirlwind. He let out a huff with the familiar size, running his hands up and down Dean's back in encouragement. For the second time this week, he just didn't want to think.

Dean set a leisurely pace. Taking his time with the heated drag of skin on skin. It felt incredible, not in the sensual or fiery way. Just to have Dean, his Dean, making genuine love to him again.

They hadn't had sex like this in a long time either.

They had admittedly fallen into a droll routine of standard sex these last couple of years, only occasionally dissipated by something eccentric on a special occasion. It felt incredible to feel like Dean actually wanted to have sex with him because he loves him. Not just because he wants to get off or because their schedules just happened to match up and they were bored.

Dean sucked possible marks into his neck as he thrust, rolling his hips to punctuate how much he was happy to be back. Cas felt something break inside of him as he blinked up at the ceiling, arms still wrapped around Dean's back. He felt the sting of tears again as shame flooded back in. Nowhere was safe.

He fucked up. What happened with Sam was a mistake. At the time, he was weak, he was crushed and in desperate need of comfort. Sam... Sam had just said the right things at the right time. It meant nothing. All of these things he told himself, over and over again.

He loves Dean. And it is for this reason that Cas swore to let this die with him. He could never tell Dean.

And, he needed to talk to Sam. As much as he dreaded it, he needed to make sure they came to an understanding.

Cas threw his head back, a gasp leaving his lips as Dean brushed his prostate. He angled slightly, a slow message working up over the spot and driving Cas crazy. He moaned Dean's name openly, over and over again, urging for more, just that little bit that would send him careening over the edge.

Dean wrapped a hand around his member, pumping him slowly to match his thrusts. Cas whined as Dean ghosted his lips over Cas' ear, whispering sweet promises and encouragement.

He swore his love in response, his orgasm finally taking hold and releasing messily between them. Dean still kept up his slow pace as he milked his orgasm from him, chanting Cas' name. It was the first time since their early years that he could remember Dean finishing so closely to him. Their sexual appetites had never been so in sync.  
-

Their morning routine had been hindered with divulgent kisses, sharing a shower that wasn't meant for two. 

Cas noticed Dean being far more affectionate with him, winking charmingly as he made his way out of the house for work. 

Cas had an extra half hour before he really needed to leave, sipping his second cup of coffee in the kitchen. He was staring pensively at the half empty pan of mini croissants on the counter when he heard footsteps.

He didn't need to look to know who it was, taking a deep breath as he tried to gather the courage to get through today.

He glanced over his shoulder to see Sam with his back turned to him, rustling in the fridge.

He bit his lip in contemplation, "Sam-"

"Sounds like you guys had a nice reunion last night."

"Listen, we need to talk"

Sam emerges from the fridge with a jug of milk, placing it on the counter and facing him, "Oh, now we need to talk?"

"Sam-"

"Why don't you start with what the hell is going on?"

Cas set his coffee mug down, the sound it makes feeling like a gunshot, "Sam, I'm sorry about what happened. It was wrong, and I can't take it back, but I'm sorry. Dean and I-"

"Seem to be wasting your time again."

"Sam-"

"You know he's just going to fuck you over again, right? He is literally playing you right now, and you're okay with that?"

"Sam, what happened between Dean and I was just a snag, okay? I love your brother, end of story."

Sam let out a mock laugh as he shut the fridge, "Why do you do that? Why do all the nice, amazing people in this world set themselves up for abuse?"

"I'm sorry, okay? But this-" he motioned between them for emphasis, "-this is never going to happen. I was scared and lonely and completely out of my head when that happened, I made a mistake. What happened was just a mistake."

"Yeah? Well, it wasn't to me. I meant it. What I said? Everything that I said, I meant."

Cas shook his head, "No, Sam, no you didn't, you know why? Because even if a part of you believes that, a bigger part knows that it was wrong, knows that there is no possibility of a future between us."

"You don't know what I believe."

Cas leaned back on the counter, throwing a hand up in exasperation, "Seriously? What, what you would tell our kids that you stole me from your brother and ruined the family just to have me? That the reason they don't get to see their grandparents or their uncle is because we aren't welcomed?"

Sam swayed a little in his place, "I never knew you wanted kids."

"Sam, that's not the point, the point is that what happened between us was a mistake and I am asking you to let it go. We both just need to let it go."

Sam turned to dig out a bowl and a box of cereal, his silence setting Cas on edge. He turned to pour the rest of his coffee down the drain, no longer interested in finishing it. He turned to leave, scooping his keys up from the table when he heard Sam call after him, "You don't have to do this, Cas. It doesn't have to be like this."

He pursed his lips, letting the statement sink in a moment as he made his way to the door. It really does though.  
-

The week was grueling, every moment, alone and not, varying in degrees of uncomfortableness. He was a prisoner in his own home. In his own skin. 

When Cas was alone, all he could do was spin himself in circles. When he was alone with Dean, he felt as if he were a million miles away. When he found himself alone with Sam, he was straining to be himself. And when the trio spent fragments of time together, he was someone else.

He didn't know which way was up anymore. For periods of time, as the frame of what had happened grew larger, Cas managed to block out his own thoughts, drowning them in work, sex, and the occasional extra sleeping pill.

It appeared that Sam had conceded to pretending like nothing happened, of which Cas was eternally grateful for. Until he wasn't. Time had stretched into almost two weeks before Sam brought it up.

It was a quiet Sunday evening, Dean having gone fishing with his father and a few of his friends. Cas was in the laundry room, idly folding linen when he felt a presence watching over him. He whipped his head around, jumping in temporary fright before realizing who it was, "Christ, don't sneak up on me."

Sam stood leaning against the door frame, a bored looking expression encompassing his face, "Sorry."

Cas turned back around to finish folding the now crumpled towel in his hands, readjusting the edges, "What's up?"

There was a long bout of silence, something that Cas had slowly grown accustom too recently. He didn't bother engaging the younger Winchester, placing the towel with ease on the pile of cleans.

Cas, having facined himself into a numb bundle of neutrality in these new situations, hadn't heard the younger man approach him. He jumped for the second time in a couple of minutes when he felt a warm body against his back and hot breath against his bare neck. Sam boxed him up against the linen table, no force, nor hostility present. He was simply there.

His words spoken carried a weight that Cas was tired of barring, "Cas, stop this. I can't-" Sam took a sharp breath, his lips mere centimeters from his skin, "I can't stop thinking about you. I've tried- lord knows I've tried..."

Cas turned, anger boiling up inside him, "Enough!" he belted as he gave a rough push to the other man's chest.

The force only pushed him back a few inches but it was enough to point an accusatory finger, "Sam, this is crazy! How many times do I have to say I fucked up!"

Sam took half a step forward, laying soft hands to keep Cas calm, "Cas... Please, listen to me. It wasn't nothing and I can't just let it go..."

"Well, learn to!" With that, Cas shoved the remainder of his unfolded laundry into the basket, hauling it with him as he made a hasty get away.

Driving himself crazy, Cas abandoned the idea of completing chores. Dean would be home soon anyway and he was sure their house would be a bustle of ‘burly men’ gutting fish in their kitchen. Instead Cas decided to go for a walk, the idea of fresh air overly appealing. He tracked through town, a few blocks away before circling the local park a couple of times. When the sun showed the first signs of setting, painting the sky a golden array of light, Cas glanced down at his watch only to find it not there.

He must have forgotten to put it on this morning, the trinket having a ghost effect and remaining a constant weight on his arm even when it wasn’t there. It had been a gift from John on his 18th birthday. He had had to get that thing repaired so many times and do you know how difficult it is to find a place that still repairs watches?

The fresh air having helped clear the smoke inside of his head, Cas made his way back home. He entered to find the scene he had expected, the smell of murky pond water assaulting his senses. When he came through the door it was to the sight of John searching through his coat pocket hanging on the rack. 

“Oh, hey Cas, there you are. We were just getting worried.”

He clamped his practical father-in-law on the shoulder as he entered, shucking off his shoes in the pile already littering the entrance way, “Hey John, how’d the fishing go?”

“To be expected… We killed everything.”

Cas chuckled lightly at that as John found the pocket knife in his jacket he had been searching for, “I’m sure.”

Dean’s headed peaked out from the kitchen before coming around to greet him. His significant other wiped his hands on one of their kitchen towel as he bent over to kiss him on the cheek, “Hey babe, where were you?”

Cas had to fight the impulse to lie, shaking his head lightly, “Just out for a walk, needed some air. We’re going to have to throw that towel out now, by the way.”

Dean pulled a half-apologetic face, shrugging, “Yeah, it was the first one Aaron grabbed but don’t worry, we’ve only been using the one.”

John inched between them, placing a hand on Cas’ shoulder, “So what was so important that you couldn’t join us today, kid?”

“Nothing really,” Cas rose his voice, “Just didn’t think I could handle being stuck on a boat with Benny for 6 hours. Might have drowned myself.”

The sound of several men laughing carried from the kitchen, Benny’s heavy southern drawl distinguishable, “I heard tha’!”

Cas smiled, “You were supposed to!” 

John grinned widely, snagging the towel from Dean’s hand and using it to wipe off his knife as he made his way back to the kitchen. Cas rubbed at his wrist on instinct, now unable to notice the lock weight there, “Have you seen my watch?”

Dean shook his head as he leaned forward to peck him on the lips, “I haven’t, but good news is, we won’t starve this month.” And if on queue, sensing the need to make his presence known, Cas could hear Aaron from the kitchen, “Walleye for days!"

Dean smiled, pecking him one more time before returning to his work. Cas made his way through the living room, the sounds of laughter following him as the men carried on after their hunt. He briefly considered putting on the rest of that documentary he had yet to finish but opted out once he noticed how prominent the smell of fish was wafting through the house already. Instead, he decided it best to catch up on his paper work, and since it was such nice temperature out, he could sit on the front steps, the porch light providing enough light for him to see.

He went to his room, collecting the stack of papers he had brought from the office as well as a couple of ball-point pens. They were just client reports, but Cas dreaded them all the same. Boring and repetitive.

The clear air had not yet turned crisp with the setting sun, the sounds of saccade wailing in the distance. It was peaceful. The lingering sound of his house guests, all of them family really, drifting out, reminding him of how good life was. 

He was half way done with his third form when he heard the creak of the screen door squeal behind him. “Hey, Cas?”

Cas glanced over his shoulder to see Kevin in the door way. Kevin Tran, all five and half feet of him, was the epitome of mis-judgment. The young college student, barely 19, was what most people assumed to be the ‘biggest nerd in school’ type of kid. And while Kevin was, in fact, actually a child genius, Kevin was also kind of a badass. Kevin and his mother had moved in next door a few months ago, his autocratic mother, Mrs. Tran, insisting that they go around the neighborhood and introduce themselves door-to-door. 

Once Mrs. Tran had discovered that he and Dean were an item, she had made it her personal mission to become best friends because of some strange idealistic fantasy life where her family was best friends with their gay neighbors. He was still very confused by that.

Cas believes she was a little disappointed to find out neither of them were really the flamboyant, “lets-go-shopping-together” type of homosexuals. Or in Dean’s case, Pansexual.

Kevin was pretty cool actually. He and Dean had gotten into a long discussion on Star War’s theories the first time Mrs. Tran had invited them over for dinner. During desert, Kevin began divulging into his clean energy proposal for his next public relations research project. Cas was enthralled the entire time, asking him all kinds of questions, which led to Kevin helping them install a few solar panels in their backyard a couple of months later.

Since then, Cas and Dean had been happy to invite him to events and outings. The kid expressed how he didn’t have too many friends in either high school or college and how it was nice to just hand out and do guy things with people who had already matured from their college-party faze. Cas had understood that. He hadn’t been much of a partier in college either. People invited him to things, but it was never really his style. He’d rather just have a few drinks with his friends or family and talk and carry on about inside jokes and stories. He could sympathize. 

“Hey, what’s up, man?"

“John wants to show me how to gut a fish- don’t ask me why- He says you guys should have a spare filet knife? But Dean doesn’t know where. And it’s not in the kitchen.”

“Uh- I think Sam should have one in his fishing-kit. I don’t think it’s be in the shed, try Sam’s room, in the closet, I’d assume.”

“I don’t really wanna rout through Sam’s stuff.”

“That’s alright, just let Dean know, he’ll find it for you.”

“Alright, thanks, man.”

Cas smiled, Kevin really was a nice kid, “How’d it go for you today?”

“The actual fishing? Or the social interaction?”

Cas chuckled, “Yes.”

“Well, I only caught 3 out of a dozen bites, and Benny nearly threw me off the boat for never having seen Boondocks Saints.”

Cas laughed at that, “That’s great. “Almost” is a great place to be with Benny.”

Kevin laughed too, the effect warring off quickly in to a teetered, hesitant breath, “Hey, I couldn’t help but notice- I mean, I know it’s totally none of my business and all, and tell me to shut up and I will, but-uh…”

Cas tilted his head slightly at the tone shift, “What?”

“Um- I couldn't help but notice that you and Dean were fighting a couple of nights ago?”

“Oh. Uh- Shit, Kevin, I’m sorry…. Were… Were we that loud?”

Kevin let out a half scoff, half laugh, “Yeah, heard Dean storm out,” Kevin dropped his head for a second, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned up against the door frame, “I just, uh- You guys okay?”

Cas let out a long sigh, searching for the words to properly explain. Because honestly, Cas wanted to say ‘no’, they were so far from okay that it was pitiful really, but as far as Cas knew, Dean would probably say that they were better than they had ever been.

“We, uh- we’re working on it. We’re getting better. We just- hit a bit of a wall there and some things were said- and- we’re working on it.”

Kevin, nodded, certainly not understanding exactly what Cas was talking about but understanding that it was messy and difficult to explain. Cas was extremely grateful for Kevin’s sensitivity and intelligence in this moment because it was actually nice that someone was acknowledging that there had been a problem without attacking him for it instead of ignoring it all together.

A silence stretched out, Kevin unmoving from his position, other than his arms uncrossing and his hands being tucked away in his front pockets. He looked as if he wanted to say more but was strategically choosing his words, “Are- are you okay?”

Cas set his pen down, pressing his hands to his lips in a brief moment of solidarity, “Why do you ask?”

Kevin shrugged, “Dean seemed alright today. Hell, he seemed happy. Happier than I’ve seen him lately. But you- you just seem like you have things on your mind.”

Cas nodded, taking that out-side perspective in. Damn, this kid was perceptive. Cas battled for a minute. Kevin was a very understanding guy. Part of him felt the urge to tell him, because if anyone was going to discern his situation without judging him too badly it would be Kevin. But, yet again, Cas wasn’t much of a gossip, he knew if he told anyone the chances of it getting back to Dean would grow. Not that he would expect Kevin to go around telling everyone on the street. But, if his mother expected that Kevin knew something that she didn’t, well, you could be sure that she would get it out of him, one way or another. And then he was done for.

Cas let out a sigh, “I’m trying to be. Some of the things that were said… the things that were done- are just a little hard to let go of right away. I’m- I’m just so happy it didn’t break us, which is why I’m trying my best to be okay.”

Kevin nodded at that, biting his lip in thought. He pushed off the doorframe and held open the screen door for himself, “Okay. I just- just let me know if you need someone to talk to, or hell, just vent to. I’m a good listener.”

Cas smiled at him, “Thanks, Kevin, that means a lot.”

The boy ducked his head in answer, retreating back into the house without another word.

Cas huffed amusingly to himself, before returning to his work.  
-

The guys had stuck around to bake up some fish for dinner, Cas, having finished his paper work, had come inside just a couple of minutes before the roasted potatoes and vegetables intended to go with it were ready. He had just enough time to wash up before dinner, heading into the kitchen and joining everyone as they stood around eating. The didn’t have enough chairs for everyone but no one seemed to mind. Opting to sip a few beers and talk about various triumphs. Cas couldn’t help but feel like this was a very typical “Man” scenario. That didn’t mean Cas didn’t enjoy himself. Cas had finally found his time to forget for a little while. To just be himself. Dean, leaning up against the counter and having finished his plate, embraced Cas from behind and pulled him in, wrapping an arm around Cas’ wait, his head on the other man’s shoulder as he helped him pick his plate clean. 

It was simple. Just his family and friends, most of which he had know for a long time, standing around, talking about “guy stuff”, giving each other a hard time and picking unnecessary fights with one another. Dean, a warm, loving presence against his back. John, an occasional, proud pat on the shoulder as he retold some of their oldest memories together. Kevin, a fond smile on his face, as he witnessed Cas being ‘okay’. Aaron, a mask of animated faces as he threw in his own two-cents. Benny, an occasional elbow in his side as he teased Cas for just about everything as they always did with each other. And Sam.

He hadn’t noticed Sam join them, but, there he was, a hot plate in his hands, and a content smile of his own. He met Cas’ eyes across the room, the laughter from the atmosphere in his eyes shifting for a moment to something, sad, almost regretful and ashamed before ghosting into genuine contentment. He shot Cas a half smile, and while it was only half of one, it didn’t look forced or unreal. The nerves dissipated from him, the realization that in this moment Sam was his friend again. Weather it was permanent or not, Cas was unsure, however he didn’t dwell on it long, instead just deciding to enjoy this night while it lasted.  
-

A few hours later, after all the merriment had died down and everyone headed home for the night with their own fair share of fish, Cas found himself alone. He cleaned up what little mess was left in the kitchen, the guys having been courteous and having mostly picked up after themselves. It was more of a way to let his brain wind down, rather than the actual need to clean. He didn’t quite feel like bed just yet, and since he had forced Dean to take a shower before he climbed into bed with him, he needed to kill the time. Cas was just wiping down the counter when he heard a nock on the doorway frame.

He turned to find Sam standing there, his hand still coming down from where it had connected with the wood frame. “Hey, got a sec?”

Cas eyed him wearily. Just because they managed to have a good time tonight in a room full of people didn’t mean he could forget how Sam continuously ambushed him the last couple of days. Sam, sensing his discomfort, held up a hand in assurance. The younger Winchester didn’t move from his spot, just let his hand fall back down to his side and into his back pocket as he gauged the situation.

Cas didn’t answer him verbally, but he did deposit the sponge he had been using into the sink and turn his full attention to Sam. His friend didn’t deserve the cold shoulder, it really wasn’t his fault, Cas’ nerves had just been set on edge ever since the incident occurred.

And Sam’s constant pursuit of the subject just made his anxiety ten times worse.

“I just- I wanted to apologize. I- I’m sorry for doing what I did earlier. I thought maybe it was a good idea until I literally drove you from the house. And- the way you’ve been looking at me today, ixnay the last couple of hours, really confirmed that I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

Cas shook his head a bit in confusion, “The way I’ve been looking at you?”

“Like… Like, I’m going to hurt you…”

Cas opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“I just- I’m sorry. That was never what I wanted. I don’t want you to be afraid of me Cas. I want, “ Sam exhaled unhumorously, “I don’t know- Maybe I just want things to go back to the way they were before…”

Cas felt a pain in his stomach and a sudden burning in his eyes, “I’m sorry, Sam. I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m just-,” Cas shrugged, “I just don’t know what to do. I’m fucking terrible at all of this.”

Sam put on a smile, “Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re human, Cas, not perfect. I mean… I can’t- help the way I feel about you. The way I’ve felt about you for a long time now. And- and you know what they say, jealousy will drive you mad. I’ve been kinda stupid these last few days, and… and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come on to you that way once you told me not to.” 

They both remained silent for a long while before Sam continued, “I can’t do this anymore, Cas. I hate this. All I want is for you to be happy… And if that means staying with Dean- Than I’ll support you two until the day I die. Because… Because I can’t stand that look, Cas- It makes me feel like I’m the worst person in the world. 

Cas stared ahead, almost in a daze, as he thought about how fucked up everything was the last few days, “What are we gonna do, Sam?”

Sam took a deep breath, stepping forward, “I’d uh- I’d like to try and find a way to just be friends again, Cas, if that’s alright with you. I know things won’t be exactly like they were before, but- eventually…”

Sam extended his hand, hoping that Cas would shake on it. But Cas, just so happy that Sam was offering a solution to help them all maybe find passage to the way they had been before, wrapped his arms around him in a hug, “I’d like that very much."


End file.
